


Just Two Kids, Stupid and Fearless

by teenageinvincibility



Category: Phlochte - Fandom, Swimming RPF
Genre: College, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2326250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenageinvincibility/pseuds/teenageinvincibility
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan visits Michael at the University of Michigan for a weekend</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Two Kids, Stupid and Fearless

**Author's Note:**

> So basically this all happened when jeahwriting brought this picture into my life http://jeahwriting.tumblr.com/post/96590004447
> 
> So blame her. For pretty much everything.

It takes Michael a lot longer to walk from class to class now. People recognize him, as they should. His name and face were on TV all summer and _The Michigan Daily_ , the school paper, wrote countless articles on him.

People stop him and ask for pictures and autographs and just to congratulate him or say they watched his races. He gets invited to tons of parties and girls slip him their phone numbers and professors are more accepting when Michael says he has to turn something in late because of swimming. The guys in Club Wolverine treat him with more respect. The tutors stay later if it means getting to help Michael Phelps. He never has to worry about missing class because there’s always someone more than willing to offer him their notes.

But the best thing to come out of his time in Athens is Ryan Lochte.

They’d gotten impossibly close during training camp, always sitting together during meals and staying up late at night learning everything about each other. Michael learned that Ryan’s favorite color was green, though he could’ve guessed just by looking at Ryan’s wardrobe. He learned that Ryan had broken, fractured, or sprained entirely too many bones in his body while riding his skateboard. Michael learned that, after spending hours in the pool, Ryan would go home and surf.

They had the same taste in music and cars and both were counting down the days until they could own dogs.

They were fantastic spades partners. Every night, a group of guys on the team would gather in someone’s room and have spades tournaments, and Ryan and Michael always won. They were accused of cheating left and right, but they hadn’t. They could just read each other.

The week of swimming in Athens was full of adrenaline. Michael found himself touching Ryan far more than was necessary, but Ryan never pulled away. He’d lean into Michael and smile at him like there was no one else in the world he’d rather be leaning into. It made Michael’s stomach twist in a way that he couldn’t figure out.

Until their racing was over.

They were only 19, but that was above the legal drinking age in Europe. They went out to clubs and bars with the older members of the team. They got drunk and danced and then would go back to the room they shared.

One night, after a particularly alcohol-infused night at the club, Ryan kissed Michael when they got back to their room. It was soft and gentle, and when Ryan pulled away, he looked carefully at Michael. Michael gave it about a half second’s thought before pulling Ryan back against him and kissing him hungrily.

Michael visited Ryan in Florida before they went back to school. They spent the whole weekend either on the beach or making out furiously in Ryan’s bedroom. Devon had walked in on them and Ryan had pinned him down and gave him wet willies until Devon swore not to tell anyone.

It had been hard saying goodbye. They didn’t know when they’d see each other again, what with their separate class and training schedules to work around. They’d held each other close at the airport, waiting until Michael absolutely had to get on the plane. He’d kissed Ryan softly, twisting his fingers in Ryan’s curls to remember how it felt. He’d licked Ryan’s lips, trying to memorize the way he tasted.

Michael wasn’t even embarrassed to say he’d had to stop halfway down the tunnel to the plane to compose himself. He’d swallowed the lump in his throat four times, willed away the tears that had betrayed him, and then took a few calming breaths.

His chest had gotten tighter as he watched Florida disappear beneath him.

 

*       *       *

 

It’s October and Michael hasn’t seen Ryan since that visit in August. It makes his chest ache.

As he walks back to his apartment, pulling his sweatshirt up over his wet hair and cold nose, Michael counts his steps the way he counts his strokes. He subconsciously walks to the beat of _Lose Yourself_ , letting his mind wander. It catches him by surprise when two girls stop him on the sidewalk.

“Hi, Michael,” the brunette one says. She grins widely at him and pushes her chest out. “Can we get a picture?”

“Sure,” Michael agrees, pushing down his hood and popping his headphones out. The girl enlists a passerby to take a picture for them, Michael in the middle with his arms around them.

“Thank you,” the blonde one says, her smile reaching her blue eyes. But they’re the wrong shade of blue. “We watched your races over the summer.”

“That’s awesome.” Michael flashes them his Publicity Smile - the one he and Peter practiced over and over in front of a mirror at the Octagon Headquarters when Michael was supposed to be registering for classes. Someone else at the agency had handled that for him. He had people for that.

Michael continues his walk back to his apartment, pulling his hood lower over his face in the hopes of making it back unnoticed. It’s cold and his wet hair is making him shiver.

He gets back to the apartment and his roommate Jeff is playing Call of Duty. Jeff greets Michael with a playful insult, to which Michael responds by throwing an empty beer can at Jeff’s head. It hits him in the cheek and someone on the opposing team shoots him. Michael smiles and heads to his room as Jeff starts another string of profanities aimed at him.

Michael drops his swim bag on the floor and glances at the calendar above his desk. It’s October 15th, and, only three days away, Friday the 18th is colored in green.

Michael flops back into his bed and smiles up at the ceiling. Where Ryan always sleeps in the center of the bed, Michael’s always slept on the right side. He looks over at the big, empty space next to him and imagines Ryan there. He glances at the calendar again, knowing he only has three more sleeps until he doesn’t have to imagine it anymore.

 

*       *       *

 

On Fridays, Michael has swim practice from 6-8 in the morning. After practice, he has class until noon, and then is scheduled to be in the weight room from 1-2. Bob knows Ryan’s coming for a visit, but he doesn’t let Michael skive off.

“His plane won’t be in until 7,” Bob says. “There’s absolutely no reason for you not to come.”

“I don’t want to be too tired,” Michael argues right back. “I was up at 5 in the fucking morning to get to - “

“Language,” Bob says, giving him a stern look. “Take a nap after the weight room. What do you need your energy for, anyway?”

Michael scowls at him and heads over to one of the machines. Bob knows about Michael and Ryan because there isn’t much in Michael’s life that Bob doesn’t know about. He’d also had to tell Bob why he’d be missing practice for a week over the summer when he went to Florida. That was painful.

Michael puts on his gym playlist and turns the volume up loudly, blocking out everything else. He does his sets and earns a smile from Bob as he leaves the weight room.

 

*       *       *

 

Michael is fortunate enough to have earned a good amount of money at this point in his life. He’s accumulated a good about of sponsors since Sydney, and so he was able to buy himself an apartment instead of living in the dorms. He was also able to buy himself a Range Rover, which he drove to the airport to pick up Ryan.

Patience is a virtue Michael only possesses in the pool, so he left fifteen minutes before he’d planned, which was already ten minutes before MapQuest suggested he leave. So Michael has been sitting in the pick up lot for almost forty minutes by the time Ryan appears.

Michael’s heart skips several beats and he accidentally turns the windshield wipers on as he attempts to flash his lights at Ryan.

Michael debates getting out of the car as Ryan walks over, but as he gets closer and closer, Michael’s skin itches with want. He opens his door and engulfs Ryan in a bone-crushing hug. Ryan drops his bag on the ground and pulls Michael tighter against him. Michael feels the knots in his stomach he’s grown so used to loosening as he inhales the scent of Ryan’s skin, his familiar shampoo, and always underlying scent of chlorine. He presses a kiss into Ryan’s neck and they pull away to smile at each other.

“Missed you, MP,” Ryan grins.

Michael doesn’t care if there are other people around because he’s not sure how much longer he can wait. He slips his hand behind Ryan’s neck and pulls him back for a quick kiss - soft and longing.

“Yeah,” Ryan says, resting his forehead against Michael’s. “Let’s go to your apartment.”

 

*       *       *

 

Jeff seems to be permanently glued to the couch, because that’s where he is when Michael and Ryan get back.

“This is my roommate Jeff,” Michael says. “Jeff, this is Ryan.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” both boys say at the same time, and then both look at Michael before bursting out laughing.

“Good things, I hope,” Ryan winks, squeezing Michael’s hand.

“Uhhh too many things,” Jeff says with an exaggerated shudder.

“So then you won’t learn anything new this weekend,” Michael says pointedly, tugging lightly on Ryan’s hand to lead him to his room.

“Be safe!” Jeff calls as Michael shuts his bedroom door.

Ryan drops his bag on Michael’s bed and takes a look around his room. It’s not big, but there’s stuff to look at. Michael has swim caps from Sydney and Athens tacked onto the wall above his desk. He has pictures of his mom and sisters, a picture of him and Bob in Athens, a picture of his best friend from home, a picture of him, Jeff, and some guys Ryan doesn’t recognize at a football game, and a picture of him and Ryan when they were sightseeing after their races were over.

Michael has his calendar with the 18th colored in green. He has a whiteboard that’s supposed to have homework assignments written on it, but hasn’t been updated since September. On his bulletin board, there’s the picture Ryan drew on hotel stationery when they were confined to their room after curfew.

On the surrounding walls, there are posters of things ranging from cars to to Michael Jordan to the Ravens. Ryan smiles because the room is so _Michael_.

Michael is watching Ryan from his unmade bed. In his defense, he’d washed his sheets earlier that day and hadn’t gotten around to putting them all the way back on. Ryan, still grinning, crawls up the bed and lowers himself on top of Michael, kissing him hard. He grinds his hips down on Michael’s, extracting a moan from the younger man.

“I like your room,” he says against Michael’s lips.

“Yeah?” Michael asks between kisses. “It’s just missing one thing.”

“What’s that?” Ryan asks, pulling away to look at him.

“You.”

Ryan allows his heart to flutter for a moment before he rolls his eyes, grinning. “You’re fucking lame.” He kisses Michael again. “Besides, there are plenty of traces of me in here.”

Michael pulls all the way back, intrigued. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Ryan sits back on Michael’s hips. “For one, you’ve got a picture of me hanging on your wall - don’t think I didn’t notice. You’ve also got that picture I drew in Athens. Which, like, is cute. That,” he points at the sweatshirt hanging off the back of Michael’s desk chair, “is mine. I’ve been looking for it, actually. No, you can keep it, I was just wondering where it went.”

Michael slips his hand under Ryan’s shirt, his fingers running over the warm, smooth skin that’s filled his dreams for weeks. “I guess you’re important or something.”

Ryan leans down to nip at Michael’s jaw. “I’m the fucking most important thing you’ve got going on, Phelps.”

Michael raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says, pulling Michael’s shirt up and kissing down his chest. His tongue flicks at Michael’s nipples, and then he alternates between bites and kisses as he makes his way down the length of Michael’s long torso. “Nobody else gets to do this,” Ryan says, tapping Michael’s hips so he lifts them up, allowing Ryan to pull Michael’s shorts down. He takes Michael’s dick and starts stroking him slowly. “I’d say this is pretty important.”

Michael wants to make some sort of comment about how does Ryan know he’s the only person but it feels too good and it’s been too long and Michael can’t focus on anything but Ryan’s hand.

Ryan lowers his head down and takes Michael in his mouth. Michael groans so loudly that Ryan reaches up with a long arm and covers Michael’s mouth.

“Don’t wanna give Jeff a free show,” he winks, and then sinks back down on Michael.

 

*       *       *

 

Ryan and Michael spend Friday night in Michael’s apartment. Jeff invites them to whatever parties are on his docket, but Ryan’s tired from his flight and Michael selfishly wants Ryan to himself.

Out of the two of them, Ryan is the clean one. That sometimes surprises people, but Ryan grew up with four other siblings, so if he didn’t keep track of his stuff, it was sure to end up in one of his brothers’ rooms. So Michael had tried to clean up the mess that he and Jeff have lived in for two months. He’d tried to throw away most of the empty beer cans and Gatorade bottles and takeout boxes, but Jeff wouldn’t help and continued to add to the mess.

But the living room is mercifully clean enough that they can make out on the couch without finding halves of sandwiches in the couch or having to worry about upsetting a pile of dishes on the coffee table.

 _Ocean’s 12_ plays in the background, but they aren’t paying attention. They hadn’t paid attention to _Ocean’s 11_ , either. Michael’s sitting on the couch with Ryan straddling him, a knee on either side of Michael’s legs. Michael’s hands are knotted in Ryan’s curls as Ryan kisses down his jaw and neck, settling on the spot where his neck and shoulder meet.

Michael hums at the feeling, letting himself get lost in Ryan. He slides his hands from Ryan’s hair to squeeze his ass, and he feels Ryan smile against his neck.

“Wait,” Michael says, a switch in his brain flipping on. “No marks. I got made fun of so bad the last time.”

Ryan gives one final suck on Michael’s neck before popping off. “You taste so good, MP.” Michael’s stomach clenches as Ryan sits back to look at him. “But if you need me to stop, I will.”

Ryan’s lips are swollen and red and Michael wants to suck on them. He pulls Ryan’s face back to his, kissing him hard. Michael pushes his tongue into Ryan’s mouth and slips a hand under Ryan’s shirt. His fingers run over new muscles that he’d been too distracted to notice earlier.

“New workout routine?” Michael asks, pulling away.

Ryan grins down at him. “Yeah. My coach set me up with this guy Matt - “

Michael raises his eyebrows. “Is he cute?”

Ryan rolls his eyes and flicks Michael’s arm. “Let me finish. Matt does strong man training, so he has me, like, pulling chains and shit.”

“Hot,” Michael says, the mental picture sort of overwhelming.

“Yeah, I’m pretty manly,” Ryan agrees. He settles down next to Michael, who wraps his arm around Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan leans into him, resting his head against Michael, and absently runs his fingers up and down Michael’s thigh. “What about you? Any new training stuff?”

They spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together and talking. They’ve talked every single day they’ve been apart, but Michael enjoys listening to Ryan’s stories in person. He uses hand gestures and imitates voices - things that get missed over text or on the phone.

When Jeff comes home a while later, he’s drunk and has a girl with him. He grins widely at the two of them before leading the girl into his room and closing the door.

“We should go,” Michael says, sitting up and stretching. “I’ve made the mistake of sitting out here while Jeff has, uh, _company_ before.”

He stands up and takes Ryan’s hand, pulling him to his feet. The corner of Ryan’s mouth pulls up in a lazy grin.

“We could make some noise of our own,” he suggests, slipping his hands into Michael’s pants and squeezing his butt. “Have a little competition.”

And yeah, Ryan pretty much nailed it, because when can Michael turn down a competition?

 

*       *       *

 

Michael wakes up to an empty bed and is more than disappointed. He throws the covers off and walks into the kitchen to find a shirtless Ryan looking through the cupboards. Michael leans against the doorframe watching until Ryan looks over, an exasperated look on his face.

“You guys don’t have any food.”

“That isn’t fair,” Michael says, walking up and wrapping his arms around Ryan from behind, settling his chin in the crook of Ryan’s neck. “We have some stuff.”

Ryan rolls his eyes, leaning back into Michael. “Poptarts, a frozen pizza, and expired milk don’t count.”

“It’s expired?” Michael asks. “Maybe that’s why Jeff puked the other day.”

Ryan wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, probably. I’m hungry, though. Where can we eat?”

 

Twenty minutes later, Michael and Ryan are dressed in winter clothes because, like Michael pointed out when Ryan pulled on shorts and a t-shirt, it’s cold in Michigan. So Ryan’s wearing one of Michael’s pairs of jeans and the only hoodie he brought.

They eat at the restaurant down the block from Michael’s apartment that Michael always goes to after practice. He orders his usual even though he doesn’t have the appetite he usually does after a workout and Ryan orders the same amount of food. If the waitress is surprised, she doesn’t act it; she probably thinks they’re high or something.

“So what now?” Michael asks, pushing his empty plates into the center of the table and leaning back into the booth, his hands folded over his stomach.

“You tell me,” Ryan says, mimicking Michael’s posture.

“I could show you around campus.”

“Yeah,” Ryan smiles. “Let’s go.”

 

*       *       *

 

Michael shows Ryan the pool and the library his favorite places to sit outside and points out spots along the way where various friends have puked or passed out. Ryan’s enjoying the tour. It’s cold, so he and Michael have an excuse to stay close, and when Michael slipped his cold fingers between Ryan’s, Ryan smiled over at him.

It’s a cold Saturday morning, so there aren’t many people wandering around. Ryan and Michael stop and kiss at some of the more romantic spots on campus and Michael feels really overwhelmed by how much he’s enjoying Ryan’s company.

His stomach growls. “Do you wanna go into the town to grab lunch?”

“Yeah,” Ryan smiles, linking his fingers with Michael’s again.

They start walking back the way they came, talking about the different restaurant options. And then -

“Michael, wait up!”

Michael looks over his shoulder to see a group of five or six girls a few yards away, but they’re approaching quickly. He drops Ryan’s hand and tries not to let his annoyance show.

“I told you it was him,” one of them says to the other girls.

“Hi,” Michael says as they get closer.

“So there’s a party tonight,” the boldest one says as a greeting, scribbling an address on a piece of paper. “You should come.”

“Uh,” Michael glances down at the address, mostly to give himself a minute. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

“Great,” she says, smiling widely, walking to catch up with her friends who had started drifting away. “Oh, and Michael? That invitation is only for you.”

Her friends giggle at her confidence.

“Your hot friend can come!” another one calls, pointing at Ryan. The girls erupt into more giggles as they continue on their way.

Michael expects Ryan to laugh or tease him, but Ryan doesn’t say anything. They continue walking in silence for a few minutes, Ryan looking at the ground, until -

“Is that what your life is like here?”

“What?” Michael’s already forgotten about the girls. “Oh, that? Uh, yeah, that happens sometimes.”

Ryan’s quiet, still watching the ground as they walk.

“What’s up?” Michael asks, uneasiness settling in the pit of his stomach.

“Nothing,” Ryan shrugs. So Michael drops it.

 

They’re halfway through lunch and Ryan’s still being relatively quiet, something totally out of character for him.

“Ryan,” Michael says, causing Ryan to look up from his plate.

“What?”

“You’ve been quiet since we ran into those girls. What’s wrong?”

Ryan pushes his food around his plate instead of looking at Michael. “You said that’s what your life’s normally like. You know, like girls coming up and throwing themselves at you. And like we aren’t official or anything so like there’s nothing stopping you from, like, taking them up on that.”

Michael wants to laugh because he finally understands, but he knows that would only further upset Ryan. He switches over to Ryan’s side of the booth, crowding him pushing Ryan further in, and links his fingers with Ryan’s.

“Ry,” Michael says, voice soft. Ryan’s head is bent, so Michael’s lips are next to his ear, his breath tickling Ryan. “I’m not really good at talking about this kind of stuff. But I really like you. I really like spending time with you. We talk every day, we’ve had phone sex more than once, I just sort of…”

And then it hits Michael that he’d assumed they were dating, and understanding that they aren’t official makes him wonder if Ryan’s been with anyone else. The thought makes his heart land somewhere near his toes.

“I just sort of assumed we were, like, together,” he continues quickly. “I haven’t been with anyone else since Athens.” This, finally, makes Ryan look at him. “Everything has been about you since then. I mean, I understand if you’ve, like, _done_ \- “

Ryan cuts him off with a quick kiss. “No,” he smiles. “Just you.”

Michael can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face. He tilts Ryan’s chin up, kissing him deeply. He allows his tongue to roll against Ryan’s briefly before pulling away. “Just me?”

Ryan rolls his eyes. “You take up enough time, Jesus. Calling me every night? I don’t have time for anyone else.”

Michael bites his earlobe, but nuzzles Ryan’s cheek with his nose. “You make me happy.”

Ryan smiles and kisses Michael again. “Okay, enough girly shit. Let’s go drink beer until the football game.”

 

*       *       *

 

Ryan, Michael, and Jeff drink five or six beers each before meeting up with the rest of the guys at the football game. Michael feels happy and numb and is constantly finding some way to touch Ryan - whether he has an arm around his waist or is hugging him when Michigan scores. If the other guys notice, they don’t say anything. They know who Ryan is and what he means to Michael. The only person who ever gives Michael shit is Jeff, and it’s all in good fun.

Michael likes looking at Ryan wearing one of his Michigan shirts. It creates a warm feeling in his stomach that is entirely separate from the alcohol. He likes knowing that when he gets the shirt back, it’ll smell like Ryan until Michael washes it - or wears it so often the smell fades away.

Michigan wins the game and the group goes back to Michael and Jeff’s apartment. They drink more beer and play video games and blast rap music. Someone orders pizzas and all eight of them are finished off within the hour.

Michael sees Ryan leaning against the wall talking to one of his friend’s girlfriend and walks up to join them. He wraps his arms around Ryan’s middle, his chin resting on Ryan’s shoulder. The girl smiles and waits until a stop in their conversation to excuse herself.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Michael asks, his tongue flicking at Ryan’s earlobe.

Ryan presses back against Michael’s crotch. “I wanna dance,” he says. “And I then I want you.”

Michael gulps. “Yeah. Yeah, dance and then… Yeah.”

 

*       *       *

 

They end up going to the party Michael was invited to by those girls. Not only does Michael not come alone, but he brings all 15 people that were at his apartment.

He and Ryan find their way to the kitchen and take a few shots before Ryan can drag Michael out into the throng of people dancing. He turns himself around, pressing back against Michael, and rests Michael’s hands on his hips.

They dance provocatively, and when the girl that had invited Michael notices him, he kisses Ryan’s neck and pulls him closer. She scrunches up her face and disappears again, presumably to find one of the other girls from before. But Michael’s forgotten about her a few seconds later, entirely engrossed in Ryan.

When Ryan’s favorite song comes on, he flips their positions so he can rap in Michael’s ear. Ryan’s breath tickles him and the sensation goes straight to his crotch, but Michael feels more exposed without Ryan in front of him.

 

They stay at the party for a surprisingly long time, considering how hard it is for Michael to keep his touching appropriate. They leave the group and walk back to Michael’s apartment together, stumbling into each other, drunk, and happy. The beer keeps Michael warm enough that his lack of jacket doesn’t make him shiver.

The walk back seems to take forever, but it could just be that Michael kept letting Ryan get a few steps ahead so he could stare at his butt in the form-fitting jeans.

When they’re finally in the privacy of Michael’s apartment, Michael pushes Ryan against his bedroom door to close it, sliding his hands into Ryan’s back pockets. Ryan’s hands instantly slip under Michael’s shirt; they’re ice cold and Michael’s nipples harden.

“You need to warm those up before we go any further,” Michael says against Ryan’s lips.

They move over to Michael’s bed, only ever parting to remove each other’s clothes. Michael pushes Ryan down and climbs over him, kissing him rough and dirty. Michael rolls his tongue into Ryan’s mouth, sucking on it before taking Ryan’s bottom lip between his teeth and pulling.

“Want you,” Ryan mumbles, fingering the waistband on Michael’s boxers.

Michael’s stomach twists. “Yeah? How?”

“Hard,” Ryan says, his eyes challenging Michael. “I want to feel it tomorrow. I want it to hurt when I have to sit on the plane back home.”

And Michael’s stomach twists in an entirely different way. Because Ryan’s leaving tomorrow.

“Mike,” Ryan says, gripping his arms a little tighter. “You good?”

By way of response, Michael attacks Ryan’s mouth with a hard kiss. He blindly reaches into his nightstand where he put a few condoms and lube before Ryan got there. He pushes his boxers down, tears the condom open, and slips it on. He squirts lube onto his fingers and works Ryan open.

“Fuck, MP,” Ryan says, his back arching as Michael curls his finger. “Yes, baby, right there.”

He slips another finger in and gets even harder at the sounds that come out of Ryan. Still working his fingers, Michael crawls up to kiss Ryan hungrily. Ryan grabs Michael’s face, carding his fingers through Michael’s hair, and thrusting up against Michael’s stomach.

“Come on,” he says against Michael’s lips. And Michael doesn’t need any further invitation. He pulls his fingers out and pushes into Ryan, groaning at how good Ryan feels.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You feel so good, babe.”

Ryan moves his hips to match Michael’s thrusts, his nails digging into Michael’s back. As Michael picks up his rhythm, he buries his face into Ryan’s neck, biting and kissing at his collarbone.

“Harder,” Ryan requests.

Michael picks up speed, pulling out a little further with each thrust. Ryan matches Michael’s rhythm and reaches a hand down to start jerking himself off.

“You close?” Michael manages.

Ryan’s biting his lip and nods in response.

Michael picks up his pace, going harder and faster until they orgasm together, Ryan spilling all over his hand and Michael’s chest. Michael collapses down next to Ryan and pulls Ryan’s back against his chest, wrapping his arm protectively around Ryan’s middle.

Michael kisses the back of Ryan’s neck and shoulder until Ryan’s breathing evens out. Remembering Ryan’s words about getting on a plane in the morning, Michael pulls Ryan even closer and presses his face into Ryan’s skin, hoping to absorb the smell in his sleep.

 

*       *       *

 

Michael’s room is very empty when he gets back from the airport. Ryan’s presence alone seems to make everything more full, and without it, his room seems lonely. There’s too much space in his bed, but his pillows and sheets still have traces of Ryan.

Saying goodbye to Ryan, Michael felt like something had changed over the weekend. He felt like they could really do this. _Them_. Some people may think they’re just stupid kids, but Michael has faith.

Michael changes into the Michigan shirt Ryan wore the day before. Just like he predicted, it smells like the perfect balance of Ryan’s sweat, cologne, and shampoo. Michael buries his nose into the shirt and rests his head down on the pillow Ryan had used.

 

Michael wasn’t aware of falling asleep, but when he wakes up he has a picture message from Ryan. It’s a picture of Ryan’s neck with an angry, blotchy, purple circle. Michael’s impressed with the amount of shades of purple he managed to get in. The message says _Go easy next time_.

Smiling to himself, Michael gets up to take a shower. He hasn’t showered since he and Ryan had sex, so he feels pretty dirty. He turns the shower on, pulls off his clothes, sticks his hand under the stream to test the temperature, and steps under the warm water, almost instantly jumping back out.

From the moment the water hit his back, Michael felt like he was getting stabbed with thousands of knives. He turns his back to the mirror and glances over his shoulder to find his entire back is full of angry red lines from Ryan’s nails.

Michael wraps a towel around his waist and enlists Jeff to take a picture. Jeff hands Michael’s phone back to him with raised eyebrows, to which Michael answers by jutting his chin in the direction of the unknown girl in Jeff’s bed. Jeff rolls his eyes and closes the door in Michael’s face. They’re good at nonverbal communication.

Michael sits back down on his bed and send the picture to Ryan, adding _I could say the same for u_.

He lies back into his pillow, smiling to himself, but cringing at the thought of getting in the pool later. If his shower hurt, Michael can only imagine how chlorine will feel.

He can’t wait to repay the favor.


End file.
